


Footprints in the dust

by quiet_one



Series: Cora Shepard [4]
Category: Mass Effect
Genre: Other
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-10-01
Updated: 2014-10-01
Packaged: 2018-02-19 12:30:00
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 567
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2388278
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/quiet_one/pseuds/quiet_one
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A few short fics whilst I plot my ME3 fic. These are all set between my ME2 fic Fallen Star, and my ME3 fic The Wide Night.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Footprints in the dust

It wasn’t until the night his mother died that Garrus took the VI from his bag. He hadn’t forgotten it exactly.

The mere thought of it was a pain he did not need.

Outside the dawn was spreading across the sky in an ugly reminder of the day to come. The house was silent. His mother’s body was downstairs, and his father sat vigil beside her.

Solana had retreated to her room looking for some laughable idea of rest.

In the quiet, Garrus lay down and set the black disc of the VI on his chest. It rose and fell with every breath. He’d given Shepard a gun mod. She’d given him this.

Garrus pressed a talon to the control panel on front.

The image that appeared was vivid in the shadows of his room, casting light into every corner, and with the comfort came the almost unbearable tang of grief.

That it looked like Shepard, sounded like her, was a cruel joke.

Garrus shoved it on the side and adjusted his pillow. He should turn it off. Instead he stared at it until his eyes hurt. Closing them meant images of his mother, and he’d had enough of those.

The orange blur faded into dreams. Someone called his name, and Garrus jerked awake.

The house was silent.

“Garrus, you know I love you.”

“Shepard?” Garrus propped himself up to scan the room. He almost expected to see Shepard ease herself from the corner and sit down on the bed.

Disappointment burnt in his dry throat as he traced the source of her voice.

The VI flickered. Shepard’s standard issue image had been overwritten with a recording. This was her as she’d been scant months ago. Her hair was a mess. Bruises lined her cheeks.

“I’m sorry I had to go… again. Getting arrested was never part of the plan. The only thing…” Her voice hitched. “The only thing keeping me sane is knowing that you’re out there. You’re fighting the good fight for me.”

Garrus sat up and put the VI on his lap. He held his breath.

His best friend, pale and insubstantial, the star he sailed by, looked out at him with a faint smile on her face. It was almost enough.

“There are so many things I should have said to you when I had chance. You had faith in me when I had none left, and I want you to know I have faith in you.” Shepard ruffled her hair. She shuffled her feet. What I’m saying is… there’s no Shepard without Vakarian.”

The recording stuttered. Shepard as he knew her blinked out and was replaced by the fake. “Ever wrestle a Varren for money?”

Garrus huffed out a laugh, unexpected and short lived. The laugh became a silent sob. Plates hitching, breath catching as it rose, Garrus buried his head in his hands.

He could do this without her. He had to, after all, he’d done it once before.

It had cost him. Garrus would live on without his mother, though he had no idea what it would cost him, what it would cost them all.

He roused himself, dressed slowly, and stretched his stiff body.

This wasn’t about being a good turian. His mother had taught him better than that.

Garrus switched the VI off, and the room grew darker.

Hi family were waiting downstairs. He went to join them. 


End file.
